


Humour Me

by celeste9



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival is wounded during a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humour Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo, 'hurt/comfort'. Not the most exemplary example of first aid, you'll have to forgive Leon, he does his best. *g*

The men had come from Morgana. They had revealed their purpose to be a simple fact finding mission, which hadn’t gone simply at all. Unfortunately for Morgana, they would not be returning to reveal what they had found.

Leon pulled his blade from a dead man’s chest and wiped the blood off. He would be glad to report to Arthur their successful thwarting of the lady Morgana, though surely it would not keep her away for long.

“Leon!” came Gwaine’s urgent voice.

Immediately turning, Leon rushed to him, finding Gwaine supporting a collapsing Percival. He slung his arm around Percival to help hold him upright, clenching his other hand in Percival’s mail as his eyes frantically assessed the damage.

Blood was soaking through Percival’s breeches, from where he appeared to have been slashed across the back of his thigh. Percival tried to take a step forward, putting weight on his injured leg, and stumbled. He would have fallen if not for Leon and Gwaine holding him up.

“Careful,” Leon warned. “You mustn’t try to walk.”

“Do not treat me like some frail maid,” Percival said, making a half-hearted attempt to push them off.

“Oh, we know you’re a big strong man, Percival,” Gwaine said, lightly slapping Percival’s back. “You can’t help being laid low by a mere scratch to your muscular, manly thigh.”

Percival glared at him, which served only to widen Gwaine’s grin.

“You can’t travel like this,” Leon said, focusing on the practicalities. “Let me see to your wound.”

In response, Percival tried again to walk, his second attempt as fruitless as his first.

“Oh, give over,” Gwaine said, rolling his eyes, and nodded his head back towards where they had come from.

Between the two of them, they dragged the protesting Percival over to lay him by a large tree, laying him on his front. Percival grunted at the movement.

Leon gripped the torn edges of Percival’s breeches and ripped them further, exposing the wound more clearly. The seeping blood made it look worse than it was. “Get me some water, Gwaine,” he said, but Gwaine was already holding out his canister of drinking water. Leon took it and carefully washed the blood away.

“It’s not so deep,” Leon said, relieved. “I can bind it to staunch the blood flow and we will rest here until you can bear it enough to go back to the castle.” Thankfully they hadn’t traveled far and if worse came to worst, Gwaine could run ahead to bring back a horse. Or perhaps even Gaius.

Percival groaned. “Gaius is going to stick needles in me.”

Leon found himself smiling as he tore strips from his shirt to tie tightly around Percival’s thigh. “I expect he is.”

“Surely a big strong man like you isn’t afraid of a little old needle.”

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Percival grumbled.

“Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Gwaine said, sniffing, feigning offense. “I’ll just be over there, keeping watch, making sure you two don’t get killed while you’re playing nursemaid. Don’t mind me.” He flounced off.

Leon couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he watched Gwaine go.

Percival, however, sighed quietly. “He knows about us, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

“Gwaine may be overly loud and exuberant, but he is no fool.” Leon finished tying the dressing and let his hand rest lightly on Percival’s leg.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Really, we should be proud of his restraint,” Leon suggested. “He didn’t even tease. Surely that must be considered growth.”

“Yes, perhaps we should reward him for the unusual display of tact. We may never witness such a feat again.”

“No one will ever believe us.” Leon slid over to lean his shoulder against the back of the tree, stretching one leg out in front of him and bending the other. Percival looked faintly pale, tired and worn out. The loss of blood had not been severe, but it had been enough to cause Leon some concern. “It was kind of him to leave us be for a moment,” he said, because it was true that he was grateful to have Percival to himself, where he could look Percival over and behave how he wanted, not having to worry about how he appeared.

Gwaine was his friend and Leon knew he would never tell tales, nor would he judge, but Leon appreciated the privacy all the same. An audience, no matter how small or friendly, would never not make him uncomfortable. Some things were not for the eyes of others.

Percival reached his hand out, stroking the backs of his fingers along Leon’s thigh. “It was. Leon, it’s really nothing. You mustn’t fret like a mother hen.”

“A mother hen?” Leon raised an eyebrow. “I am not the one who insists upon feeling every bump and bruise and scrape until he is satisfied I am not dying.”

His ears flushing slightly, Percival said, “I only do that because you enjoy my hands upon you.”

“That’s as may be, but your hands have an entirely different purpose from what you are implying after battles.”

Percival huffed, shifting upon the ground. It was clear he wanted to move but was attempting to be cautious of his wound. “Only to begin with.”

Leon laughed. That was a fact - Percival’s anxious inspections inevitably ended far less innocently than they started. “Yes, only to begin with. Come, let’s declare it a draw. Clearly we are equally matched in our ridiculous expressions of unwarranted concern.”

“I can accept that,” Percival said, warmth in his eyes. His hand was still stretched near Leon’s leg and Leon grasped it, rubbing his thumb over the back of Percival’s hand.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Oh, Leon,” Percival tutted. “You _are_ being serious.”

“Of course I’m not. I care nothing at all for you; I simply wish not to have to inform King Arthur that I have lost one of his knights. He’ll have me on training duty until further notice.” Leon didn’t mind helping the new recruits from time to time and he considered it his duty; however, attempting to drill the arrogance out of the green young men wasn’t his idea of a good time.

Arthur, on the other hand, had always quite liked that. He enjoyed knocking people on their bottoms.

“That would be a tragedy,” Percival agreed, the faintest smile hovering about his mouth. “I’d hate to be responsible for causing such a miserable fate.”

“Then you must humour me. Please, rest.”

“Oh, all right,” Percival relented. “Damned mother hen.”

“Thank you,” Leon said, releasing Percival’s hand.

Percival reached for him again, though. “I think I deserve a kiss for my good behaviour.”

Well, that certainly wouldn’t be a hardship. Leon leaned over and kissed Percival’s mouth, lingering as Percival cupped his hand to Leon’s cheek.

“Oi, you two over there,” Gwaine called suddenly, causing them to break apart. “If you’re planning on stretching the notion of what ‘rest’ encompasses, remember that I have very good hearing! And delicate sensibilities.”

“I think we spoke too soon,” Leon said seriously, and was rewarded by Percival’s wide smile.

**_End_ **


End file.
